Cocktail Dreams

Chapter 4: Post-Nut Clarity

When I finally got back to my place, I was ready to relax—today had been long enough without any more of Keyshia's antics. Just as I sat down and started to unwind, my phone buzzed. I glanced down, and there it was—a notification from the security app.

A black G-Wagon was parked out front.

I rolled my eyes, feeling that familiar annoyance bubbling up. It was Keyshia, of course. The girl really didn't know when to quit. I sighed and mentally reminded myself to change the gate code. I'd been putting it off for too long, thinking maybe she'd finally gotten the message, but clearly, she hadn't.

The doorbell rang repeatedly, followed by loud banging. Through the app, I pulled up the camera feed and saw her standing there, tapping her foot and muttering to herself. She looked every bit like someone who thought the world owed her something. I tapped on the microphone to talk through the speaker, hoping it would be enough to make her leave.

"What, Keyshia?" I asked, voice flat.

"Fantasia, open this damn door!" she yelled, practically leaning into the camera. Her expression was fierce, and she looked like she was on a mission I wanted absolutely no part of. "Open this door right now; I'm not playing with you!"

I stayed where I was, contemplating whether it was worth opening the door. I didn't want to let her in, but I knew she'd be out there all night if I didn't. With a deep breath, I got up and walked to the door, deciding I'd give her five minutes—just five—to get whatever this was out of her system.

The second I unlocked it, she practically threw herself into the house, shoulder-bumping past me without so much as a "hello." She stormed into the living room, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor, and stopped in the middle of the room, crossing her arms. I shut the door behind us and followed her, crossing my own arms when I reached the living room.

She glared at me, her finger already out, and pointed in my direction like she was my mom about to scold me. "So this is what we're doing now, huh?" she spat, her eyes flashing angrily. "You're already onto the next one? You can't even respond to my texts, but you have time for some new chick?"

I let out a heavy sigh, trying my best to stay calm. "Keyshia, I don't know what you think is happening here, but we're not together anymore. I'm allowed to move on. You're the one who ended things, remember?"

"Oh, don't give me that," she shot back, stepping closer. "You know damn well that's not what I meant. I didn't think you'd actually—" She cut herself off, looking flustered, and clenched her fists, clearly at a loss for words.

"Didn't think I'd actually what?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Move on with my life?"

She was staring at me, and for a split second, I saw something vulnerable behind all that anger. But just as quickly, her face hardened again. "So you're just gonna act like I don't exist?" she muttered, pacing the living room more to herself than to me. "Like you didn't care about me, about us?"

"I did care, Keyshia," I said, trying to keep my voice even. "But we ended things for a reason. You said you needed space, that it was too much. So I gave you that. Now you can't just come barging in here, acting like—"

"Oh, don't give me that," she interrupted, her voice rising. "You're just mad because you think I moved on first. But you don't get to throw me away like this, Fantasia. We have a history."

I sighed, feeling exhausted. I didn't want to fight, and I definitely didn't want to go through the same back-and-forth we'd had a hundred times before. "Keyshia, you can't just show up here demanding answers. We both deserve to move on, alright?"